These Things
by marxistqueens
Summary: Set to 'These Things' by She Wants Revenge, Otome and Kotonoha hide their feelings and then explore them when they're finally alone.


**Disclaimer: I do not own _School Days, _or any associated characters. **

**This is a gift-fic for my best friend, who loves Otome/Kotonoha. And thank you, my dear **artigiano, **for assisting as always. **

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* * *

Let make a fast plan, watch it burn to the ground  
__I try to whisper, so no one figures it out  
__I'm not a bad man, I'm just overwhelmed  
__It's 'cause of these things, it's 'cause of these things  
_She Wants Revenge - "These Things"

Feigning it is never easy.

There's nothing to do but pretend to hate. Acceptance would never be given, so why pretend? It's not her prerogative anyway.

She's not entirely sure how it started- -she thinks it was in April, just as the sakura blossoms were beginning their suicide jump from their perch upon delicate twigs. She caught sight of her from across the courtyard, white petrels stuck in her shiny black hair, dewdrops in the night. Her slight figure was bent forward, her large breasts practically spilling out of her shirt. Otome grew red and turned away-such thoughts. Never could they be admitted.

As if God knew her desire and wanted to torture her, they ended up in the same class. 1-4. Every day when Katsura entered she would sneer, turn up her nose and laugh with her friends. _Bitch, _they called her. _Stuck up rich-girl. _They construed her quiet reservedness into elitism, her shyness into an act to get attention. Even though Otome knew differently, she went along. She laughed. She pointed. She tripped her in the hallway and cackled in her face, spread rumours about her sexual proclivities. Every time she'd see Katsura's eyes, filled with pain, she broke in half. But still, she persisted. Like a boy, she showed her affection through all-out cruelty.

But when she was at home, Otome was free to relish in the thoughts that she wanted. She would sit in the bath at night until the water turned cold and fantasise, imagining the scent of Katsura's breath; the gasps she would emit as Otome kissed down her long, white neck; her smile as Otome traced circles on her with her fingers. Alone, she would imagine; she would despair for that which she would never have.

But Kotonoha- -she always thought of her this way, though she'd never call her by her first name- -was a broken girl. It was the talk of the entire school; Itou, Katsura and Saionji, their stupid, fucked-up love triangle. Itou had broken the fragile girl's heart and cast her aside when the newer, more exciting model came along. It wasn't Kotonoha's fault that she was needy, that she wasn't promiscuous, that she felt things that other people felt. Otome understood these things. Otome wanted to heal these things in her.

* * *

Feigning it is not so simple.

She knows what people thought of her. She knows the things that they say when she passes, so why pretend? It's not her place to argue anyway.

She's not entirely sure how it started- -she thinks it was sometime during last year's school festival, after she saw her with Makoto and felt the jealousy blossoming red-hot in her chest. Many would think that it was because her boy was with another girl, but that was not it: it was because her girl was with a boy. She watched her peel off a piece of blue cotton candy and suck on it, her lips wet and shiny, her face serene. She longed to taste the melted sugar on those lips. Kotonoha grew red and turned away-such thoughts. She'd never had them before.

Of course, by some divine intervention, they'd been placed in the same class. Every day, Kotonoha's hopeful glance toward Otome was met with a sneer, her kind words met with vitriol. She had all but given up hope of being Katou's friend, much less what she wanted to be. At school, she acted concerned over Makoto's continuing adultery with Saionji, she cried the part, fell when they tripped her, ate by herself. She was friendless and kept it that way; it was comfortable in the way being naked was. She didn't have to pretend when she was alone.

But when she was at home, Kotonoha would lie in her bed in the dead of night, feeling her heart beating wildly beneath her fingers and finding her breaths coming more quickly than anticipated. She ran her hand slowly across her breast, imagining it was Katou, desperately relishing the image of Katou's eyes closing as Kotonoha held her face in her hands, enjoying the thought of her sugar-coated lips. She would struggle to control her breathing and keep herself quiet, and despite her joyful thoughts, she would resign herself to defeat.

But Otome- -she always thought of her this way, though she'd never call her by her first name- -was unattainable. She was self-assured and strong, an ice queen amongst the peasantry, the object of desire of many. She was everything that Kotonoha was not, everything that Kotonoha wanted to be, but more something that Kotonoha wanted to possess; she longed for that beauty, that fire, that twisted mind-game power to be hers and hers alone. She sensed that beneath Otome's cold, angry exterior, there lied something else. Kotonoha saw these things, and she wanted to be the only one to ever see them.

* * *

They ended up alone together.

It wasn't a strange occurrence in and of itself; they were, after all, both on the council for their class. They were setting up one of the most clandestine parts of the festival that only happened on the last day: the secret room which couples could go to to be alone and do whatever they wanted without fear of interruption. What they didn't know is that they were being filmed the entire time, but who needed to tell them that? That was only for select members of the student council to know, much to their pleasure.

The room was dark and quiet. The distant sounds of the carnival were far away. Kotonoha could hear Otome breathing with exertion as she carried in boxes of blankets and pillows and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor, dropping her shoulders in exhaustion and sitting on the corner of one of the bed.

Otome noticed Kotonoha watching her. She glared at her, and Katsura quickly dropped her glance, embarrassed.

But secretly, both their hearts were beating quickly. They danced; Otome would cast a look and then look away, and Kotonoha doing the same. It only took once that their eyes met, and both caught off guard, could not cover up what had been seen there.

Kotonoha took a step. She was the rabbit and Otome was the wolf; tender and breakable, she ventured forward into the waiting jaws, trusting that she would not be crushed.

Otome saw her approach. There was a violence in what she felt; she wanted to grab Kotonoha by the neck and slam her into the wall and force her kisses upon her unwilling lips for all the pain she'd put her through. Her love was deadly, sadistic in its ferocity. On a whim she reached out and grabbed Kotonoha's wrist and in one smooth movement, slammed her into the wall and smashed her lips onto hers. Kotonoha struggled against her for a moment, whimpering at the pain. Her lip split under the pressure and Otome could taste her blood.

It fuelled her.

Then at once, Kotonoha stopped her straining and collapsed in Otome's arms, her hands grabbing hungrily at the back of Otome's school uniform. Otome sucked on her bleeding bottom lip, pushing Kotonoha to the bed and digging her finger nails into her shoulders, and Kotonoha sighed, her eyes closing and her chin tilting back. Otome took the invitation. She brushed her lips on the barest surface of the other girl's skin, smiling at the goosebumps she felt on Kotonoha's neck. Otome had always dreamt of this moment, held it dearly in her mind away from the prying eyes and fierce critics that would have torn her limb from limb for thinking such a travesty.

She smirked in the darkness as Kotonoha wrapped her smooth legs around her waist. Let them laugh now. She was the one in here with one of the most beautiful girl's she'd ever seen.

Kotonoha gave a low groan as Otome bit down her earlobe; the pain, so blissful and freeing to her, sank into her skin along with the knowledge that _Otome _was the one doing this to her. She inhaled the scent of the loose blonde hair falling around her face, reached her hands up and ran her fingers through it, tracing the curve of Otome's scalp as it led down into her neck, feeling the top vertebrae beneath her smooth skin.

Otome knew the camera was watching them carefully and that soon, their secret would be out. But she didn't care. She took of Kotonoha's blouse anyway, letting the red school ribbon fall to the floor like her innocence, discarded. Kotonoha grasped at her hair, her breath laboured.

Let them find out. As Kotonoha moaned, she smiled. Reputation be damned- -let them all find out.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. :].**

**Madeline**


End file.
